The Game began in Guilderland, New York, the evening of March 7, 1970. Two Syracuse U. grads (1968), Dr. Death and Binky Brown, were debating who was going to die first: George Burns or Jack Benny. Talk escalated to the prediction of mortality in general. Having been psychology majors, they chose to put their prescience to a test, writing down 55 names of those they thought might die in the coming year. Soon they felt the competition should be broadened, so they invited others. They gathered 11 Charter Gamesters for the first year of play. In 1971, the Game's first full year, lists were expanded to 68 names (two columns on a 34-line legal pad), and the Wild Card, QPA and National Disaster were added, formalizing the Game, which has been played annually since then.
The Game Gazette, the journal of the Death Game, began publication in 1976 and was published five times a year. A complete set is archived in the Popular Culture Library at Bowling Green State University, Bowling Green, Ohio.
Is this the oldest dead pool?
Absolutely not. In 1591, Pope Gregory XIV sought to put a halt to people wagering on the death date of the Pope, a practice rampant in the Papel Curia. A New York City newspaper was the home of a dead pool in 1935. For more on the history of dead pools, click here.
The object of the Game is to predict the famous departures of the calendar year and compete for a variety of honors: most points (Gran Prix), most hits (Perriman Pennant), highest Quality Point Average -- always referred to as QPA, i.e. points divided by hits (Reaper Ribbon), lowest QPA (Clete's Cup), most style (Doc's Diploma for Class List), perfection in scorelessness (Buffalo Cup) and overall best performance by a newcomer (Rookie of the Year).
Entrants alphabetize and enter 67 names, plus one Wild Card, on the Official Form, or submit a neat computer facsimile by mail or e-mail.
How do you keep score?
Hits are worth one to ten points based on age. To calculate points per pick, subtract the number in the decade position from ten, e.g., if the pick was 48, take four from ten, leaving six points. All hits aged 90 and over are one point.
1. Picks must be nationally famous.
2. One pick per name. The judges will assume you mean the most famous person with that name unless you specify otherwise.
3. In cases of the obscurely famous, the player is responsible for notifying the scorekeeper(s). To verify a hit, an obit or news report from a national publication is necessary. Obits arriving after year's end earn career credit only.
4. Disappearance does not presume death.
5. If reported ages differ, the judge(s) will rule on the number of points awarded.
6. Famous animals are honored with one point.
7. The Wild Card is worth five (5) points regardless of age. It is not a bonus. A 32 year-old pick is worth five points as a Wild Card, not 12, or even seven (7). No animals, please.
How do I join?
New Gamesters, or Rookies, must be sponsored by a current Gamester. We typically do not accept Rookies via the Internet.
What's "famous"?
Fame, for purposes of the Game, means a pick is well-known due to an achievement of his or her own. Mere association with a famous person does not justify credit. A prolonged demise, however well-publicized, will not qualify a pick as famous. We do not single out victims.
However, for those famous apart from being stricken, no particular illness will disqualify them. In borderline cases, the obituary is critical in determining whether an individual was famous for purposes of scoring.
Picks sentenced to die must be famous prior to the act(s) for which they are sentenced. If, however, they die by means other than execution, their fame as a criminal qualifies them for points.
Isn't this morbid?
The Death Game is as morbid as Fantasy Baseball is athletic.
However, we are familiar with popularly held sentiment, perhaps best expressed by Clint Eastwood as "Dirty Harry" Callahan in The Dead Pool, where he says, "Sounds pretty sick to me." We don't agree, but we understand.
Do you think death is funny?
No, death is not funny. But the Game itself can be funny.
Leonard Bernstein once noted, "When music is funny, it does something shocking, surprising, unexpected, absurd. It puts two things together that don't belong together, things which are incongruous." The Game takes the somber obit page and replays it in upbeat sports tempo. Hence incongruity, and the chance that the Game, not death, will strike some as funny.
As George Bernard Shaw noted, "Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh."
For more on how we truly feel about life and death, click here.
The Game attracts and satisfies in many ways, and every gamester comes to it with their own perspective. We have, however, identified four levels of play, perhaps a starting place to understanding the appeal of this pastime.
1. The Game is irreverent, even a bit shocking, and some take pleasure in that. It is a poke to ribs that lie beneath stuffed shirts, a tweak of blue noses.
2. The Game is a way of sharing and staying in touch with friends, whether near or far. It gives people a reason to call and correspond.
3. The Game is a competition -- challenging, engaging and energizing.
4. The Game heightens awareness and helps us to recognize our kinship with those whose deaths we note. As John Donne wrote:"No man is an island, entire of himself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
For more specific information, read the Game Glossary and the Game's Greatest Hits.